The next day, before Divine Hymn class, I stood waiting at the classroom door for Liyue—we’d arranged it the night before. In the distance, Liyue emerged from behind the stairwell, pulling Imet along.
Spotting me, Liyue waved from afar before turning to fix Imet with a stern look. She brushed his clothes smooth and even reached up to tidy his messy brown hair, though Imet wore an impatient scowl.
*Clueless fool.* He had a childhood sweetheart doting on him, yet carried himself like a carefree rogue. Was he truly fit for recommendation?
"Hurry up, Xiao Yi! Don’t keep Lady Lerfu waiting," Liyue tugged him to me. She straightened and gave a crisp Knight’s salute. "Lady Lerfu, greetings. This fool of mine will trouble you from now on. Xiao Yi—greet her properly!"
"Heh, nice to meet you again, junior. About that bar trip we discussed last time—" *Ow! That hurts!* "Stop pinching my ear!" *Hopeless.* I watched as Liyue angrily pinched Imet’s ear. Nearby students turned at the commotion. *So embarrassing. I don’t even know these people.*
"Is he your first recommendation candidate?" Mistflower whispered beside me. "He doesn’t seem... serious."
"You disapprove of this type?" I’d asked Mistflower yesterday to start scouting her own candidates.
"I’m not fond of playboys. Recommending someone with unique abilities would be better." *So traditional.*
"But if you insist on him, Lerfu, I’ll co-sign the recommendation. Finding people is such a hassle—I don’t know how to build relationships. Everyone here feels like they’re from another world..."
"You can do it. Master the techniques I taught you, and you’ll mingle with high society. If not, I’ll find exceptional candidates for you." Mistflower exhaled in relief, slipping silently behind me like a shadow.
In Divine Hymn class, Imet and I sat together as planned. Honestly, I disliked studying hymns—I’d just pretend to listen while observing him. To my surprise, Imet was engrossed in a knight’s novel, ignoring the lecture entirely.
"*Ahem.* Aren’t you paying attention? I’m evaluating you. At least try to impress me. Didn’t you claim you took this class to broaden your perspective as a Bard?" I couldn’t even scold properly—I skimmed the lecture myself. How could he brazenly read a knight’s novel right in front of me?
"Tch. That excuse was for the teacher. I didn’t want to come—Liyue dragged me here." He finally looked up from his book. "As for you... you wanted to assess me? This is the real me. Assess away."
"You—!" *I’ve never met anyone so shameless!* "Stop staring! After everything Liyue does for you, how can you be so lazy? Do you even deserve her?"
I snatched his novel. The cover read *Chronicles of the Knight King’s Dragon Slaying, Vol. 8*. *Ugh.* I’d adored this series before the author abandoned it. *Vol. 8 actually exists?*
*I want to read it. Right now.* But I forced my expression stern, tucking the book away.
"Let me finish! I was *this close* to the best part!" Imet hissed, too afraid to shout in class. His failed attempt to grab the book proved his strength was no match for mine.
"Quiet. Listen. Our beautiful teacher sings wonderfully." I gritted my teeth, focusing on the hymn to resist peeking at the novel.
After the teacher finished a verse, the lecture turned to dry theory. Imet leaned in, voice low:
"Do you really want to recommend me? I’m not suitable. You must see that."
*I know. I’m just doing this for Liyue. If only he’d take it seriously.*
"There’s no ‘suitable’ or not. I say you are, so you are. Truthfully—you don’t even want to join the Church, do you?"
"Hn. I don’t want my freedom chained. I crave adventure like the heroes in these chronicles. If not for Liyue..." Hesitation colored his words—torn between wild freedom and the stable life his childhood sweetheart wished for him.
"Joining the Church doesn’t mean losing freedom or staying put. You could join Expedition Teams to hunt Monstrous Beasts, or fight Demons at frontier fortresses." I slipped into my role. Originally just humoring Liyue, his defiance sparked my competitive spirit. *I am a believer, after all. The soul of an evangelist burned within me.*
He fell silent, weighing my words. I let him ponder, turning back to the lecture.
Soon, the teacher announced she’d call a student to sing the hymn she’d just taught. *Please don’t pick me—* My prayer died as her gaze landed on Mistflower in the front row. With ten wings radiating presence, she was impossible to miss.
"You, Ten Winged Angel—please come sing for us." The teacher pointed. I nearly choked.
*Mistflower singing?* The mental image was too absurd. Flustered, Mistflower couldn’t refuse—she was too well-behaved. She shuffled to the front, whispering something to the teacher (likely begging for mercy). Predictably, she was gently persuaded to proceed.
"Relax. Breathe. It’s alright if you’re not perfect. Music, begin—" The teacher patted her shoulder. Magical accompaniment swelled—solemn, majestic, perfect for an Angel’s voice. But Mistflower grew up in the countryside; formal music was foreign to her.
Blushing, she began. Her voice was untrained, slightly off-key—yet undeniably beautiful. Slowly, she closed her eyes. Her wings began to glow faintly. Her voice grew stronger, filling the classroom.
I’d never known she had this gift. She abandoned the teacher’s rhythm and accompaniment, singing purely by instinct. The melody was haunting, mismatched yet mesmerizing.
At the climax, Mistflower floated mid-air—truly an Angel descended to save mortals. Even the teacher was spellbound.
When the last note faded, the class sat entranced. Only my familiarity with her voice let me recover quickly. On stage, Mistflower glanced around desperately for feedback. Seeing the teacher still lost in reverie, she turned to me with pleading eyes.
I gave a thumbs-up. *She’s exceptional at this. I’ll nurture this talent.* Beside me, Imet snapped out of his daze, staring at Mistflower with awe.
"*That’s* a hymn! Perfection! I feel it—I’ve found my path as a Bard! I must ask for her guidance, junior Lerfu. You’ll help me, right?"
